Wrong Stan
by Seraina
Summary: The large ivory colored envelope addressed to Stanford was unexpected. He waited until he was sitting at the kitchen table before he carefully pried the mysterious envelope open. The card had careful calligraphy detailing the time and date of his baby brother's wedding... He didn't think much when he filled out the RSVP card and sealed the envelope. [Part of the Evil Twin series.]
_"I'd hate to see you leave_

 _'Cause I have grown so grateful for the_

 _Blame you save me from"_

"My Evil Twin" - They Might Be Giants

Taxidermy was one of the stranger skills he'd picked up in the past ten years, but strangely he'd found it useful when trying to come up with 'attractions' to transform his brother's house into something that can sustain him until he can fix Ford's machine. There's no if though, he will fix it, even if he has to punch a hole all the way through to wherever it is Ford was thrown.

He sat back and admired his work. The bear head he found at an estate sale three towns over was in good enough condition, though the horn he made from modeling clay and paint was really a work of art. A little more glue and an extra patch of fur and the horn was attached. "Hello Grizzlycorn." He grinned and straightened up, stretching out the kink in his back. "Damn Stan, you're getting old." He grumbled and washed up.

The 'Murder Hut' had its fifth successful summer season, and after a completely innocent run in with the not-so-local authorities, Stan decided to change the name to 'Mystery Shack' and shift focus less on the weird phenomenon his brother was studying and more to campy tourist trap family fun, like the largest ball of yarn. He had a few more ideas and enough time to get them all finished before the summer season.

A fresh layer of snow fell while he'd been working, making the woods that surrounded the house seem peaceful. All the supernatural creatures seemed to take the day off. Stan pulled the mail out of the mailbox and started sorting the bills from the junk. He was financially secure for the winter; sure it meant eating beans for dinner most nights a week and canned brown meat but at least he had food and that was all he needed.

The large ivory colored envelope addressed to Stanford was unexpected. He waited until he was sitting at the kitchen table before he carefully pried the mysterious envelope open. The card had careful calligraphy detailing the time and date of his baby brother's wedding.

Stanley missed nearly all of Shermy's childhood since he'd been kicked out when his brother was still in diapers. He knew from years of living as Stanford that his brothers weren't close. In fact, after the news broke that Stanley Pines was dead, he only got a cursory call from his father, informing him that his brother was gone and there would be no funeral. He could hear his mother screaming in the background. He missed her so much; sometimes it felt like she was the only person that understood him. Especially when Ford was busy being a nerd.

He didn't think much when he filled out the RSVP card and sealed the envelope. He could go to the wedding, hang in the back, see his mother and baby brother, then leave before anyone catches on.

He didn't realize how bad of an idea this was until he stood outside the church three hours before the wedding was to start. He leaned against the fence that circled the elementary school he and his brothers attended and lit a cigarette. It was freezing, mid-Feburary in New Jersey… he'd give Shermy hell if he ever worked up the nerve to go inside. Three cigarettes into the pack, he saw a woman exit the church, wrapped in an old-fashioned fur coat, her silver-streaked hair covered in a scarf. She picked her way easily across the slush-covered street and over to him.

He froze when he met his mother's eyes for the first time in sixteen, nearly seventeen years. Would she fall for the fake glasses? The pair of gloves with the custom sixth finger stuffed with modeling clay?

Time seemed to stand still while she looked past the superficial cover and into his eyes. She choked back a sob and wrapped her arms tightly around him; she was too strong for a woman her age. "Oh my Stanley," she muttered into his shoulder.

He stiffly wrapped his arms around her, forgetting that he was still barred from coming home, technically dead, and impersonating his missing brother. He smiled and lifted her up off her feet. "Hey, Ma. Shh… don't cry, it's… it's alright."

Once her feet touched the ground again, she pulled back to look up at him and cuffed him in the ear. "You have some explaining to do! Where's Stanford?"

There were two people in the world he could never lie to, Stanford and his Mother. He sighed and briefly explained the strange postcard, the cabin in the woods, the fight with Ford. He didn't mention the machine, just revised the end of the fight to have Ford walk into the night and never come back. "And I've been looking for him ever since, but there's just… no trace of him, Ma."

"So you killed yourself and took his name?" She frowned. He winced and looked away. His mother took some things very seriously; names were one of them.

"Nobody wanted Stanley, Ma. Everyone loved Stanford."

He should have paid more attention, because he got another whack to the ear. He shook his head and looked at his mother.

"Don't you dare say that. Your Father may disagree because of his failure to see the potential in you, but you are still my son, Stanley. And I will always want you." She gripped his hands tightly, frowning at the gloves. "I should have been stronger, stood up to him. He was hardest on you because you reminded him of himself. And he hates himself."

He squeezed her hands back and smiled down at her. Had she always been so short? "Hey, you did the best you could."

"Now. Stanford. Sherman is too nervous and your Father won't notice, so please take off those silly gloves and come inside? It's freezing and I am too old for this weather."

The wedding was long and boring, full of rote and tradition that he remembered from Sunday mornings spent at church. The reception was finally in full swing when he managed to corner his baby brother alone.

He had a hard time reconciling the baby he remembered with the man in front of him. "Hey Shermy, congratulations buddy." He smiled and tried to push back the guilt that crept up on him. He'd missed his brother's entire life. Maybe it was the whiskey talking though. The open bar was hard to pass up.

"Ford!" He got a strong hug and a manly pat on the back. "I didn't think you'd come. I mean… I hoped you would but I thought you'd be too busy with your work. Gosh, it's been so long. Are you still all the way out in Oregon?"

Stan smiled and looped his arm around his shorter brother's shoulders. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world. Yes, still in Oregon. It's nice there, you should come visit sometime. You and… Penelope." He had to search for the name of his new sister-in-law.

"Yeah? That'd be fun. Like camping in style. What do you think, Pen?" The youngest Pines turned to his new bride and Stan finally realized why the wedding had been so soon after the invitations were mailed: Penelope's baby bump was rather obvious up close, though the frills on her dress hid most of it from a distance.

"We'll see Sherm." She looked Stan over. "So this is the mysterious man I've heard so much about? It's nice to finally meet you Stanford."

"Please, call me Stan." He smiled, taking his sister-in-law's hand. He felt his Father's eyes on him from across the room. He then shoved his hands back in his pockets. "My business partner's name is Ford too, so um… it's become habit." He looked down and cleared his throat.

Penelope looked between the Pines boys, a confused look on her face. "Sherman?"

Stan mumbled an excuse, feeling stupid, like his cover was blown. He heard his little brother's words follow him out.

"Stanley… Ford's twin brother… he died several years ago."

Muffled condolences and whispers followed him out but he didn't stop until he was three blocks down and out of breath from running. He was out of shape. And he probably smoked too much. And he nearly blew his cover because he was drunk and his sister-in-law was pretty and his baby brother looked so happy and he'd missed so much!

He bent over and vomited in the alley behind the old deli.

"Never could hold your liquor."

Stan froze, one hand on the cold brick wall and he saw his father's shiny dress shoes out of the corner of his eye. Of course Stanley could drink like a fish, but he supposed Ford didn't have the stomach for it. "Guess some things haven't changed."

"Some things don't have to."

Stan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up, facing his father and hoping he was just as oblivious to details as he'd been when he was a kid. "But some things do."

"Stanford… I … miss him too." His father stood there and Stan had a hard time keeping his temper in check.

Of all the things he wanted to say… about the abuse he took as a kid, getting kicked out of the house for a stupid mistake, being banished over money that wasn't even a sure thing… but instead he stood there and hung his head.

"I'll… I have to catch my plane soon." It was a lie, his plane didn't leave until morning, but he couldn't imagine setting foot back in the church. He needed to get that machine back on.

"Oh. Goodbye Ford."

"Bye, Pa." He mumbled and headed back towards his motel room and away from the rest of his family.

As soon as he got home to Gravity Falls, he wrote a letter to Shermy, wishing him well and apologizing for leaving before they could catch up properly. As an almost afterthought, he asked when Penelope was due and if they wouldn't mind if he visited again sometime.

Stan liked the idea that Ford and Shermy were close, even if it wasn't a reality yet. He was going to do his best to be there for his little brother. Even if he was the wrong twin.


End file.
